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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28729353">25 To Life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid'>dralexreid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dr Piper Bishop [64]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:13:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28729353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is asked to consult on a parole hearing of a convicted killer. But will following his gut pose a risk to society?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dr Piper Bishop [64]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something was going on, Emily noted as she looked up from her paperwork to Piper. Every so often she would feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up coinciding with the crinkle of plastic. But every time she looked up, Piper’s face had slackened as she did her paperwork, earbuds plugged into her ears. At one point, Emily had narrowed her eyes to ask her what song she was listening to and instead of just saying the name, she glanced around before scribbling something onto a notepad, ripping it out, crumpling it into a ball before throwing it at Emily. But the ball fell short and by the time Emily picked it up, Piper had plastered a grin on her face before turning back to work. She swore something was going on and she was going to find out.</p><p>Shaking her head, she turned back to her work to see her phone ringing. “Prentiss,” she answered, glancing back at Piper who had frozen again. She listened carefully to the voice on the line and Spencer too had looked up. She placed the receiver in its place before standing up. She carefully tucked her chair in, making her way past Spencer and Piper’s desk. She turned around, walking backward in the direction of Rossi’s office to see Piper’s hand snake past her monitor to a corner. The crinkle was heard again, and Emily caught Piper popping the small shortbread cookie into her mouth. Shaking her head, Emily pounced. By which, she walked over, cool as a cucumber to free the packet of cookies from Piper’s snack monopoly. Piper groaned, finally caught. Emily grinned, picking out a cookie for her and Reid. “What’s the office rule on snacks?” she reminded her.</p><p>“Every article of food is for the people brought by the people,” she sighed, and Emily took the cookies with her as she popped into Rossi’s office. “’I’m never gonna see them again,” Piper mourned as Spencer let the cookie melt in his mouth.</p><p>Rossi glanced up from his desk to see Emily holding a packet of cookies. “Put them in the stash,” he sighed, turning back to the work at hand.</p><p>“Hotch isn’t coming in today?”</p><p>“Jack’s been feeling a little down.” Rossi answered vaguely before noticing Emily still hadn’t left. “Something wrong?”</p><p>“No, I just—I got a call from Agent Seaver’s remedial officer.”</p><p>“Samuels?”</p><p>“Yeah. She’s requested her remedial training be here.”</p><p>“She was only clear for one case,” Dave countered.</p><p>“That didn't end the way she had hoped,” she retorted gently.</p><p>“I'd say,” Dave scoffed, remembering Ashley’s blunder.</p><p>“She made a mistake.”</p><p>“A mistake that almost cost Bishop’s life,” he reminded her.</p><p>“But she remained calm under pressure. She just wants to prove herself. And Bishop’s more than forgiven her.”</p><p>“Hotch isn't here to supervise her,” he added.</p><p>“I'll do it,” Emily offered. “I'll be her training agent.”</p><p>“He signed off?”</p><p>“Via email,” Emily confirmed. “But I know you have a history with her.”</p><p>“Don't make me regret this,” Dave sighed, and Emily smiled, glancing over at Strauss who stood outside the entrance. Nodding, Emily sidled past her and Erin took a seat in front of Dave.</p><p>“Have you heard from Aaron?” Erin asked concernedly. Despite all the strife she gave the man, he was a good agent with an admirable albeit worrisome work ethic. “He sounds like he hadn't slept. Do you think he's all right?”</p><p>“Jack's having some problems,” Dave admitted.</p><p>“Well, it's been a year since...” she trailed off but both agents knew what she was referring to. “Well, I'm glad he's finally taking some time off. This is the only thing that's pending,” Erin said, offering him a file. Dave flicked through it.</p><p>“Donald Sanderson? That was 20 years ago.” Dave’s eyebrows were wrinkled as he met Erin’s gaze.</p><p>“25,” she corrected him. “He’s up for parole. They’ve asked us to do a risk assessment.”</p><p>“Well, I can’t do it,” Dave countered. “Not with Aaron gone.”</p><p>“Then who can?” Erin watched, her legs crossed as David pressed a button on his phone, pulling the receiver to his ear.</p><p>“Morgan, can you come in here?” He placed the receiver down, glancing up at Erin, not for approval, but as a challenge.</p><p>“Well, he’s got to see him today. The parole hearing is tomorrow.”</p><p>“Now, what was his story? Junkies randomly attacked his family.”</p><p>“Yes, that's what he claimed,” Erin sighed. “He and his son survived. Frankly, I don't understand how parole is even a consideration.”</p><p>“Well, he's eligible,” Dave noted. “They're overcrowded.”</p><p>“Yes, but the physical evidence was shocking,” Erin countered. “Who could possibly believe he would be innocent?”</p><p>“That's not our job,” Dave remarked. “All we need to see is how 25 years has changed his life.” They both looked up as Derek knocked on the door.</p><p>“Ma'am,” he greeted Strauss politely before turning to Rossi. “Is everything alright?”</p><p>“I need you to take a trip,” Dave said, passing over the file to the younger profiler.</p><p>“Who's this?” Derek asked, flipping the file open.</p><p>“Don Sanderson. He's been in Petersburg half his life and he's up for parole,” David summed up.</p><p>“It appears he's become a model prisoner,” Erin remarked.</p><p>“You don't sound convinced,” Derek commented neutrally.</p><p>“I don't know how someone who kills his wife and daughter can be rehabilitated,” she admitted, and Derek nodded to the both of them before leaving the room. He took the steps down from the catwalk, smiling distantly at Emily and Piper arguing over snack communism. Piper turned around, mirroring Derek’s faint smile.</p><p>“What are you up to?” Piper asked, intrigued.</p><p>“Risk assessment hearing.”</p><p>“Anything interesting?” Emily asked, forgetting about the argument as Spencer ducked to grab it.</p><p>“Donald Sanderson. Sentenced to life in prison after the murder of his wife and daughter,” Spencer recited, and Derek plucked the file back.</p><p>“Oh, please take me with you,” Piper pleaded. “I’m so bored. All I’ve got are serial biters and tooth thieves.”</p><p>“Tooth thieves?” Derek asked, disgustedly.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s some delusional person whose stealing teeth and leaving pennies that are out of circulation. So, not only is he weird, but he’s also a cheap bastard,” Piper scoffed.</p><p>“Sorry, private mission,” Derek grinned. “Have fun trawling through psychiatric interviews.”</p><p>“Eat glass!” she said with the best smile she could muster, watching him leave obnoxiously.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek went through the typical process at Petersburg Federal Prison, asked for identification, scanned for arms before being led through the prison for his interview. He couldn’t imagine life behind these bars – a very real possibility he might have faced 4 years ago. Then again, he hadn’t committed those crimes. These people had.</p><p>Donald Sanderson seemed typical, almost normal with his clean-shaven skin, salt and pepper hair and clear spectacles. <em>But then again, didn’t they all?</em> There was no question why the man was eligible for parole. Despite his crime and despite the sentence, he had helped 41 inmates achieve their G.E.D’s. Whether he had killed his wife and his daughter, it was a lot of effort for a man who might never feel the daylight on his skin again.</p><p>He wanted to hate this man, this man who refused to accept he had killed his wife and daughter, but Derek had a job to do, and he was going to do it. He tried to drown him, he really did, asking about his incomplete residency, his incomplete goals, the heroin found in his cell 2 years ago, but it all came down to one question. “If you were to gain your freedom, what would you do with it?”</p><p>“I can't even think about something like that,” Donald sighed, rubbing his face.</p><p>“But what would you do?” Derek repeated.</p><p>“I would try and find my son...” the man admitted slowly. “And I'd tell him the truth.”</p><p>All his life, Derek had searched to root out injustice, and one wrong call would make him undo a woven web that currently barred Donald Sanderson. That’s what plagued him and the two doctors sitting in the bullpen could easily recognise the symptoms. Derek looked up in the conference room at the knock on the door, his eyes catching Piper’s easy smile. “Hey, we were gonna go grab dinner, Emily knows a good Mexican place. Apparently, they have stunning enchiladas. You wanna take a break?” But Derek’s firm lines gave her the answer, one that wasn’t very palatable. So, reluctantly, Piper retreated into Spencer’s arms as they followed Emily and Penelope to get enchiladas while Derek submerged into his files and photographs. He walked through the crime, bumping up against a question he wasn’t supposed to answer. Was Donald Sanderson ready for society? Another knock interrupted him, and Derek spun to see a sheepish Piper. “Sorry, interrupting?” Derek waved her off and she entered the room, placing a takeout bag.</p><p>“I’m really not in the mood.”</p><p>“No, I figured when you said no to enchiladas. Instead, I brought something I knew you couldn’t refuse.” He watched with narrowed eyes as Piper withdrew a wrapped slider and a soda from the translucent bag. She raised an eyebrow as Derek tried to resist.</p><p>“I can eat and think, right?” Piper beamed as Derek took the sandwich, violently unwrapping it and letting the juicy sandwich melt in his mouth.</p><p>“So, the hearing’s tomorrow, huh?” Derek nodded, glancing at the board as he chewed. “You didn’t actually eat glass, right?” Piper asked and Derek narrowed his eyes before swallowing.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“That face you have,” Piper gestured with her finger, “it looks like you just ate glass and not your favourite comfort food.”</p><p>“This is my normal face!” Derek protested, spreading his arms out in outrage and Piper snickered. “Okay, very funny, you can leave now.” Piper just kicked him gently in the shin.</p><p>“Confess your sins and all will be forgiven,” Piper said, smirking, hoping it would trigger something. There was a reason talk therapy worked.</p><p>“I don’t know what to say tomorrow.”</p><p>“Bullshit!” Piper said, grinning. “Derek, I’m only gonna say this once, and if you ask anyone, I will deny this to my grave,” she said, gazing at him. “But your gut instinct is one of your better qualities unlike your oozing charms and limitless self-confidence.” Piper smiled ruefully at him. “And I’ll admit that the sincerity with which you do this job is what makes you…” Derek cringed at what she was about to say next. “Admirable,” she sighed.</p><p>“Wow. Was there a compliment somewhere in there?” he scoffed.</p><p>“I have no idea what you mean,” she deadpanned. “Get some sleep.” Her voice wafted as she walked away. “Parole board’s not gonna trust you if you look like a raccoon out there.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he said dryly but smiled as he watched the young woman leave the unit office.</p><p>Derek was used to speculation and doubt. In fact, he liked people underestimating him because the satisfaction of proving them wrong was thrilling. It filled him with pride in his instincts. So, sitting in front of a panel, debating the life of a man, wasn’t new to him. He had met psychopaths, looked them in the eye and handcuffed them. Donald Sanderson wasn’t one of them.</p><p>“Based on physical evidence, Donald Sanderson has been prosecuted to the full extent of the law. But the way in which he has spent the last 25 years... It throws doubt on that conviction,” he said sincerely. “Now, I know that is not the question at hand here today. I have learned that behaviour does not lie. You all want to know whether or not this man has been reformed. I believe that he has. He's lost everything, yet somehow, he has still managed to better himself,” Derek admitted. “More importantly to people around him, he's held on to the only good thing left in his life. His son. It's what defines him. At this point, he's simply looking ahead.” Derek didn’t have to take a breath or look at his notes. All he had to do was follow his instinct and hope he was right. “Therefore, it is my belief that Don Sanderson is not a danger to himself or to society.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had taken two whole days for Piper to convince Rossi that the food rule was bonkers. And so, the crackers and lollies and biscuits and sodas all became redistributed. Piper received her macadamia shortbread biscuits and Spencer received his sour candies and Penelope retreated into her lair with the box of brownies. Meanwhile, Emily, who never bought snacks, received a single mandarin courtesy of Reid because ‘it’s 53% vitamin C, 16% vitamin A and 6% potassium’. She would have thrown it at his head if not for Ashley’s timely interruption with two cups of coffee. “I uh, noticed you all drink double shots.”</p><p>“Yeah, even when we’re not supposed to,” Piper said pointedly, and Spencer turned to his newspaper with renewed interest.</p><p>“Hey, look,” Spencer announced, turning the paper to show a headshot of Donald Sanderson. “Front page news.”</p><p>“Morgan mustn’t think he did it,” Emily said, snatching the paper to read it.</p><p>“Or believes he won't do it again,” Spencer murmured as Piper took a seat on his desk.</p><p>“Guess he followed his gut,” Piper said simply. “Look who came out of her hobbit hole,” she murmured, standing up to lean on the desk as Strauss entered the bullpen.</p><p>“Where’s Agent Morgan?” she demanded as Rossi came down the catwalk. Piper shared a look with Emily who simply jutted out her bottom lip in uncertainty while Spencer dialled Derek’s direct line.</p><p>“What do you need Erin?” Dave was the only one with the guts to call her by her first name and it always seemed to caution an apocalyptic nightmare. Erin practically ignored David, turning to Derek as he approached the team.</p><p>“Metro P.D. sent this an hour ago,” Erin said, bitterness in her tone as she shoved a picture into his vision on her phone.</p><p>“And they want us to take a look?” Derek asked, still confused as to the woman’s anger, turning to Piper who just shrugged.</p><p>“No, they want you to take a look,” she corrected him.</p><p>“Who is this?”</p><p>“The man Don Sanderson just murdered,” she said and instantly, the team shot to attention. Emily and Ashley glanced to see Derek’s face slacken while Piper and Spencer stared at Strauss.</p><p>“Are we sure this was Sanderson?” Piper asked.</p><p>“He was found with the body,” Erin retorted.</p><p>“Circumstantial,” Piper countered calmly.</p><p>“He was performing CPR on the victim,” Erin said savagely.</p><p>“That doesn’t mean—” She stopped, feeling Derek’s hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“I’ll handle it,” Derek said, partly to Piper and partly to Erin.</p><p>“Thank you,” she said, visibly calming down before strutting out. Piper looked murderous, but Derek’s face was crushed as the team watched her leave. Derek sent his gaze to Dave who nodded. Ashley looked confused, trying to keep up as each agent made their way to the elevators, then to Arlington, Virginia to sort out this bloody, mangled mess. Emily took the wheels of one car with Ashley, Piper and Spencer, while Derek took the holding car with Dave. All of them silently agreed that Aaron deserved his break and that anyone who updated him would be gravely punished. Spencer was the first to pose a question as they drove from Quantico to Arlington.</p><p>“Why didn’t Sanderson just run?”</p><p>“Maybe he wanted to go back to prison,” Ashley proposed, testing the waters of the team dynamic.</p><p>“There are plenty of ways to violate your parole other than homicide,” Emily countered, focusing on the road. Piper leaned over to look at Spencer’s file, letting Spencer catch a whiff of her faint perfume.</p><p>“I don’t get it,” she proclaimed. “He’s been a model prisoner for 25 years, finally gets parole and decides to murder someone?”</p><p>“What are you thinking?” Spencer murmured to her.</p><p>“Sanderson claimed that someone broke into his house and killed his wife and daughter, leaving his son alive and him injured.”</p><p>“Prosecution alleged that with Sanderson’s medical background, he would’ve known exactly how to injure himself without dying,” Ashley added. “But what does that have to do with the murder?”</p><p>“Because if his belief in that claim is strong enough, he could have potentially planned this murder for 25 years.”</p><p>“But why wait this long?” Emily asked. “And why not bring it up at the trial?”</p><p>“Same reason he waited 50 hours after being released before murdering this man,” Piper countered easily as they followed Morgan to the victim’s house. “Maybe he didn’t know the identity or address then.”</p><p>“Either way,” Spencer said, glancing through the car window at Derek who watched Donald Sanderson escorted into a car. “This sucks for Derek.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Piper grudgingly looked at the mess inside the house, a crime scene photographer committing it to colour. Glass was shattered on the table. “You’re right, this is not a random act of violence,” Emily announced as Piper carefully stepped over shards of glass to get a different perspective. “There has to be a reason.”</p><p>“Anything could have been a weapon,” Ashely mused.</p><p>“So, he chose to stab him, just like he did before,” Emily summed up.</p><p>“Not necessarily,” Piper countered, thinking aloud. “There are easier ways to stab someone. I’d wait longer. Stalk the victim then when he goes to sleep…” Ashley pretended not to be unnerved by the way she spoke.</p><p>“He also called 911 immediately after the man was stabbed,” Ashley said.</p><p>“It might not be very far off to say he’s telling the truth,” Piper proposed. “Victim feels threatened by Sanderson, attacks him before Sanderson gets the chance to.” Emily shrugged as Spencer walked in, slipping his cell into his pocket.</p><p>“So, the gun wasn’t loaded. Sanderson broke in, took it and waited for our victim to come home,” Spencer said. “No connection between Sanderson or Wittman.” Piper bit her lip, thinking as she looked around.</p><p>“But the gun was licensed to Wittman?”</p><p>“Yeah, in ’94. Why, you think you have an angle?” Ashley and Emily both glanced at the pensive Piper.</p><p>“Maybe. Pieces of it make sense,” she murmured, staring at the blood-stained tiles. “We just need to find the connection between Wittman and Sanderson.” Emily’s eyebrows flared and finishing with the apartment, the 4 of them returned to the car.</p><p>Derek finished clearing his head, coming back to find his team entangled in trying to solve this mess. Piper was perched on the conference table, reading through the original file as she crunched on an apple. Emily looked through the evidence board of the original crime while Spencer worked any possible connection between Sanderson and Wittman. Ashley passed them a coffee each, except Piper who politely refused, and Rossi finished fitting Sanderson into an interrogation room. “All right, March 10, 1985, 2:23 am,” Derek announced, and Emily flinched. “Don Sanderson was asleep on his couch because of an argument he had with his wife. He woke up to her screams.”</p><p>“He ran to the bedroom to find one man stabbing her,” Emily said, pushing Piper off the table so she could take her seat. “Another man struck him from behind, knocking him unconscious.”</p><p>“His wounds were superficial in comparison, so it was easy for the prosecution to claim that Sanderson's wounds were self-inflicted,” Piper said, grumbling as she took a seat between Emily and Spencer.</p><p>“And he had just finished his second year of residency at Georgetown,” Spencer added. “Indicating he had the skills to do it to himself.”</p><p>“And his fingerprints were all over the weapon,” Penelope finished.</p><p>“So, Sanderson comes to, his wife and daughter are dead,” Rossi summed up.</p><p>“Almost dead,” Spencer corrected. “He called for help.”</p><p>“Sounds familiar,” Ashley remarked.</p><p>“He said that two men killed his wife,” Derek said, ignoring the comment. “But when officers arrived, he changed his story. He added a woman.”</p><p>“You know, this level of trauma and shock can overpower our ability to remember details,” Piper suggested, crossing a leg over her thigh. “That’s why there’s a standard waiting period for cognitive interviews.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I’m guessing they never found her,” Penelope offered but Emily shook her head.</p><p>“No-one ever looked.”</p><p>“So, we have 3 people who commit a brutal double homicide, then never act on it again?” Spencer said. “I don't know, it seems unlikely.”</p><p>“Depends on why they did it,” Piper quipped.</p><p>“But nothing like that ever happened after Sanderson went to prison,” Ashley countered as Derek’s cell buzzed. Piper’s eyes glanced up at him as he read the message.</p><p>“The question is, how does Tom Wittman play into this?” Emily asked. “He was a teenager at the time.”</p><p>“Strauss,” Derek sighed, closing his eyes while Rossi glanced over at him.</p><p>“We’ve got this covered,” Piper blurted out. “Go.” Derek raised his brow in melancholy gratitude before rushing off to meet Strauss. Piper let out a breath as Spencer glanced over at Rossi.</p><p>“Do you think Whitman was there that night?”</p><p>“Depends,” he said simply and Ashley asked him to elaborate. “On whether you believe Sanderson’s story.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strauss stood, statuesque, staring at Sanderson as though simply gazing at him would send him doubling over to tell her the truth of what he did. She turned at the sound of Derek entering the room, updating him that her team would handle the press from herein. Derek assured her there was no need, but she insisted. She was well aware that Aaron had filed for his first vacation in months as well as their current lack of communications liaison. Saying her piece, she glanced back to Donald Sanderson. “He looks genuinely distraught. He's very convincing. I can see why you fell for it,” she offered. Perhaps it was the solidarity he could use. “I don't need to remind you that your reputation's on the line here.”</p><p>“That's not what matters to me right now,” he confessed.</p><p>“It should,” Erin warned her, taking in a deep breath. Derek nodded, letting the unit chief sidle past Rossi who came in as a witness to the interview. After watching him for a minute, Derek moved from the viewing room to the holding cell. Dave watched impartially as Derek pressed the man about why he would risk his freedom, begging for a connection.</p><p>Meanwhile, Piper watched the interrogation from one of Garcia’s screens in the conference room, trying to break down Donald’s behaviour while the others looked through Whitman’s things and background.</p><p>“He can’t even meet Derek’s eyes,” she murmured, and Spencer looked over from the remnants of Whitman’s apartment. “He’s completely submitting to Derek’s aggression.” She watched as Donald finally made eye contact and said with utmost clarity.</p><p>“<em>He would have killed me.”</em></p><p>“So, what, he’s telling the truth?” Ashley asked.</p><p>“Based on his behaviour, he feels guilty about betraying Morgan’s trust and he genuinely thinks Whitman would have killed him first,” Spencer summed up, turning back to Piper as he felt her warm hand against his bare forearm.</p><p>“Look, he went back into submission. Derek asked him why he went to Whitman’s house. He’s definitely hiding something about Whitman,” she reasoned, going to meet Emily’s gaze when Penelope started to relay her findings.</p><p>“Derek said that the Sandersons got into an argument on the night of the murders. So, I went ahead and did a background check. There is no history of abuse, domestic calls, therapy. From the outside in they were like the perfect family.”</p><p>“Nobody's perfect,” Ashley remarked.</p><p>“Yeah, but married right out of college, medical school, 2 kids, house on a hill, dog,” Garcia countered. “Pretty damn close. Yeah?” Piper nodded slowly as Spencer, Emily and Dave all took a seat between Seaver and Bishop.</p><p>“Okay, so one night they argue,” Emily reasoned. “He takes the couch, leaving the wife and kids upstairs vulnerable. He claims the offenders broke in through the basement.”</p><p>“There were security bars on the window, but they were old and broke,” Ashley provided.</p><p>“That was such an obscure fact, though,” Spencer countered. “It was deemed only someone with an intimate knowledge of the house would suggest that as an entry point.”</p><p>“Right, but if you were lying, you’d pick a more believable, less obscure story. They climbed in through the window or took a back door.”</p><p>“So, if he didn’t do it, whoever did probably stalked the place,” Spencer amended.</p><p>“Yeah, but that means that 3 people walked past Sanderson while he was sleeping on the couch,” Emily reasoned. “Why didn't he wake up?”</p><p>“And why would they walk right past him without subduing him?” Dave added as an afterthought.</p><p>“He wasn’t the target,” Piper mused, and Penelope corroborated accordingly, pulling up 4 images: 2 of the mother, 2 of the daughter.</p><p>“Who does that to a 5-year-old?”</p><p>“You know, the child was an afterthought,” Spencer said, glancing at his hardcopy. “The overkill was on Mrs Sanderson.”</p><p>“He was sending a message,” Rossi added, and Piper looked up. “He's in control. He has all the power. And he hates her.”</p><p>“Probably helps that he sent Sanderson to prison for 25 years, more if we can’t find these guys,” she proposed, glancing at the screen of Derek and Donald. With the conversation over, Piper raised the volume up, just slightly so the others could still finish their tasks unhindered, Penelope watching beside her, clutching at Piper’s hand every time Derek so much as raised his voice. Piper sighed, setting the tablet down, catching Reid’s concerned look. She blinked slowly and Spencer turned back to his work.</p><p>Meanwhile, Derek left the interrogation room to meet Dave, wanting to take Sanderson to the house, hoping to jog his memory. Grudgingly, the older profiler agreed, provided they cleaned him first. Anderson got one of the interns to bring the team a clean shirt and within the hour, Dave, Derek and Donald stood in the middle of an empty house, once filled with laughter and memory, the father trying his hardest to remember the worst night of his life. But Donald could only remember incongruous bits and pieces, shards of memory trying to fit together like a mosaic of trauma. He remembered the crying of his baby girl, feeling a crack against his skull, the sound of Thomas Whitman pleading with the hooded man to stop hurting them, the shadow of a woman and finally the cry of his son. “She wants to take my son,” he murmured. “They could have taken my son.” While Morgan reassured him, Rossi left to relay the news to the others, hearing Emily remark that they must have trusted each other and Penelope to start delving through Thomas Whitman’s history, a story she had ready by the time Dave, Derek and Donald would arrive at Quantico.</p><p>“Okay, the crazy thing about this is that nobody turned on one another,” Emily said. She was alone in the room with Ashley. Spencer and Piper had left to grab lunch for the team and Penelope had retreated into her lair to garner juvie records, claiming she worked better surrounded by plush toys and bright lights compared to the dark, clockwork-orange-esque ambience in the conference room. “So, they have to have a bond. Maybe they're related.”</p><p>“Tom Whitman didn't have any siblings.”</p><p>“It could be childhood friends.”</p><p>“Uh, the only marks on his record are from juvie. He cleaned up after that.”</p><p>“What were his arrests?”</p><p>“Petty stuff.”</p><p>“Uh, anything related to breaking and entering?”</p><p>“Credit card schemes, retail robbery.”</p><p>“Ok, now, wait. That was big in the eighties. One person would work in the store and the other would use stolen credit cards.”</p><p>“Sounds like a team.”</p><p>“Yeah. Was he arrested with anybody?” Emily asked as three federal agents returned to the room, Piper holding two takeout bags of various wraps and sandwiches while Spencer held a carton of coffee.</p><p>“I found Tom Wittman's juvie records,” Penelope said, carrying her laptop and whisking one bag from Piper’s arms. “Other than him, no one was underage involved in any of his arrests.”</p><p>“Maybe they weren't the same age,” Emily said. “The woman wanted to keep a kid. That doesn't sound like a teenager.” Spencer shared a look with Piper. She merely shrugged, settling down to start on her burger.</p><p>“Okay, I'm gonna cross-ref the date of Wittman's arrest with others made on that same day,” she said, clacking away as her sandwich lay forgotten. “Retail crimes. Shoplifting was very big. What about a woman who was arrested from the same department store as Tom? Mary Rutka, 22 at the time.”</p><p>“Is she from D. C.?”</p><p>“Born and raised.”</p><p>“Did she have any children?”</p><p>“One 19-year-old son.</p><p>“Oh, I know that look,” Piper whined, looking at Emily. “I’m not going to get to eat today, am I?”</p><p>“40-minute drive, babe,” Emily grinned, grabbing her bag and coffee. Piper tutted, following her best friend with her cup of coffee while Spencer chuckled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emily drained the last of her coffee, tossing the cup in the bin like Piper before the two women made their way up to Mary Rutka’s address. Casually, the duo walked the empty dark hallway until they found their possible unsub’s apartment number. Emily took the lead, hand on her holster as she spotted to ajar door. Piper brought up her behind, following Prentiss inside. Quietly, the ladies stormed the apartment, splitting the hallway entrance as Emily's feet fell on scattered papers, her gaze on an upturned chair and open windows. She turned a corner, clearing it until she spotted Mary Rutka’s body. Silently, Emily kneeled next to Mary while Piper made her way over. Emily slowly overturned Mary, finding her very much alive, but choking to death. Piper pulled out a knife from her ankle holster only to hear a crash behind her. Grumbling, she passed the blade to Emily before making a run for the fire escape outside the window. She rushed down the corrugated steps, following the hooded figure who was already half-way down. By the time her feet hit the pavement, the hooded figure had sprinted across the road and into an alleyway. She followed, dodging a car that almost swept her off her feet, and sprinted into the same alleyway. She heard the rattle of a gate and, presuming the rusted door in the corner was it, rushed through to see a dead end and a silver fire escape winding up the building. “Emily, I lost him,” she muttered bitterly through her receiver.</p><p>By the time Piper trudged back up the fire escape and clambered through the window, Emily was surrounded by cops, wiping her hands even though they’d been wiped clean a while ago. “It looks like she fought him.” Piper caught her telling the detective.</p><p>“So, some guy breaks in, kills her, then runs away. It's pretty risky,” the detective remarked.</p><p>“He's hiding something, and she was a witness to it. He's cleaning up loose ends,” Emily explained.</p><p>“Tying up,” Piper amended, wiping rust off her hands. Emily glanced back at her. “You tie up loose ends or you cut them off. You can’t clean up lo—Why do I bother?” she sighed to herself.</p><p>“Any leads?”</p><p>“Nothing more than we saw,” Piper said bitterly. “He definitely got a good look at my face though.”</p><p>“What do you think he's gonna do now?” the detective asked.</p><p>“Well, I don't think he'd trash the place for the hell of it. I think he was looking for something and we interrupted him,” Emily said, still wiping at her hands.</p><p>“Hey, Lady Macbeth. I think you’re good,” Piper said softly, taking the towel out of her hands.</p><p>“It, um, it makes sense why she survived until now,” Emily said.</p><p>“What are you guys talking about?”</p><p>“3 people got away with murder,” Piper said, passing the bloody towel to a CSU. “How do you make sure no one rats the other out?”</p><p>"Blackmail," Emily said, still staring at the young woman. Piper squeezed her shoulder, turning away to call Spencer. She stepped out into the dark hallway, waiting for him to pick up.</p><p>“<em>Hey.”</em></p><p>“Hi,” Piper breathed into the cell. “So, Mary Rutka’s dead.”</p><p>
  <em>“Are you okay?”</em>
</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m not so sure about Emily though.”</p><p>
  <em>“What do you mean?”</em>
</p><p>“I mean when I found her, she was scrubbing her hands like Lady Macbeth and her damned spot. This job sucks, Reid.”</p><p><em>“Yes, it does, Bishop.”</em> Piper narrowed her eyes as she heard the sloshing of liquid.</p><p>“Are you drinking coffee again?” A long pause accompanied her question before Spencer’s voice reached a high octave of ‘no’. “I told you to relax on the coffee. You’re over-working, Spence.”</p><p>“<em>I can’t help it,</em>” he protested. “<em>I need something to wake me up. I haven’t come up with a lead since this morning.</em>”</p><p>“You are very much awake, Spence. Just take a break. Let me and Emily come up with something for a change.”</p><p><em>“What do you want me to tell Derek?”</em> Piper licked her lips, unsure of what to say.</p><p>“Tell him we need to profile a dormant killer.”</p><p><em>“Yeah, a very lucky one,”</em> he scoffed.</p><p>“Yeah, Don Sanderson was like a Christmas gift, keeping any cops off of him until now,” Piper reasoned.</p><p> “<em>He'll most likely be pathological</em>.” She heard him take a long sip after the statement.</p><p>“So, we're looking for a liar in DC. See, you found a lead after all!” Piper said, mocking him.</p><p>“<em>Yay</em>,” he said dryly, making Piper smile brighter. She turned around, checking the hallway was empty.</p><p>“If it helps, you made me smile after what has been a dreadful day.”</p><p><em>“In that case, who needs coffee?”</em> She could feel his smile bursting through the receiver.</p><p>“Okay, go back to work. Love you.”</p><p><em>“Love you too.”</em> The line clicked and Piper wiped the smile off her face before heading back in.</p><p>By the time Piper trudged back up the fire escape and clambered through the window, Emily was surrounded by cops, wiping her hands even though they’d been wiped clean a while ago. “It looks like she fought him.” Piper caught her telling the detective.</p><p>“So, some guy breaks in here, kills her, then runs away. It's pretty risky,” the detective remarked.</p><p>“He's hiding something, and she was a witness to it. He's cleaning up loose ends,” Emily explained.</p><p>“Tying up,” Piper amended, wiping rust off her hands. Emily glanced back at her. “You tie up loose ends or you cut them off. You can’t clean up lo—Why do I bother?” she sighed to herself.</p><p>“Any leads?”</p><p>“Nothing more than we saw,” Piper said bitterly. “He definitely got a good look at my face though.”</p><p>“What do you think he's gonna do now?” the detective asked.</p><p>“Well, I don't think he'd trash the place for the hell of it. I think he was looking for something and we interrupted him,” Emily said, still wiping at her hands.</p><p>“Hey, Lady Macbeth. I think you’re good,” Piper said softly, taking the towel out of her hands.</p><p>“It, um, it makes sense why she survived until now,” Emily said.</p><p>“What are you guys talking about?”</p><p>“3 people got away with murder,” Piper said, passing the bloody towel to a CSU. “How do you make sure no one rats the other out?”</p><p>"Blackmail," Emily said, still staring at the young woman. Piper squeezed her shoulder, turning away to call Spencer. She stepped out into the dark hallway, waiting for him to pick up.</p><p>“<em>Hey.”</em></p><p>“Hi,” Piper breathed into the cell. “So, Mary Rutka’s dead.”</p><p>
  <em>“Are you okay?”</em>
</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m not so sure about Emily though.”</p><p>
  <em>“What do you mean?”</em>
</p><p>“I mean when I found her, she was scrubbing her hands like Lady Macbeth and her damned spot. This job sucks, Reid.”</p><p><em>“Yes, it does, Bishop.”</em> Piper narrowed her eyes as she heard the sloshing of liquid.</p><p>“Are you drinking coffee again?” A long pause accompanied her question before Spencer’s voice reached a high octave of ‘no’. “I told you to relax on the coffee. You’re over-working, Spence.”</p><p>“<em>I can’t help it,</em>” he protested. “<em>I need something to wake me up. I haven’t come up with a lead since this morning.</em>”</p><p>“You are very much awake, Spence. Just take a break. Let me and Emily come up with something for a change.”</p><p><em>“What do you want me to tell Derek?”</em> Piper licked her lips, unsure of what to say.</p><p>“Tell him we need to profile a dormant killer.”</p><p><em>“Yeah, a very lucky one,”</em> he scoffed.</p><p>“Yeah, Don Sanderson was like a Christmas gift, keeping any cops off of him until now,” Piper reasoned.</p><p> “<em>He'll most likely be pathological</em>.” She heard him take a long sip after the statement.</p><p>“So, we're looking for a liar in DC. See, you found a lead after all!” Piper said, mocking him.</p><p>“<em>Yay</em>,” he said dryly, making Piper smile brighter. She turned around, checking the hallway was empty.</p><p>“If it helps, you made me smile after what has been a dreadful day.”</p><p><em>“In that case, who needs coffee?”</em> She could feel his smile bursting through the receiver.</p><p>“Okay, go back to work. Love you.”</p><p><em>“Love you too.”</em> The line clicked and Piper wiped the smile off her face before heading back in.</p><p>Emily was in the kitchen, glancing around the room for anything that might help their case. Piper accepted a CSU officer’s fresh gloves as the unit left the scene, taking the body with them. Emily turned at the sound of Piper’s glove snapping onto her wrists. “So, how old is her son?”</p><p>“19. He doesn't have a bedroom, but she kept all his books. She's sentimental.”</p><p>“19 probably means college,” Piper mused, sending a quick text to Penelope before glancing around the apartment. “Why does every unsub have a nicer place than I do?” she groused, watching Emily place a gloved hand atop the fridge, using it as leverage for her to climb onto the countertop.</p><p>“Hey, Bishop!” she called out and Piper moved over as she pulled out a tape.</p><p>“Kudos to Spiderman,” Piper grinned and Emily tossed it to her. “You think Penelope had a cassette player?”</p><p>“Were you not there for her vintage phase?” Emily retorted, jumping down and Piper tapped the cassette to her forehead.</p><p>“How could I forget?” Emily snickered, her usual self peeking through. “She dragged me through so many flea markets, I thought I was going to catch fleas.” She earned another chuckle out of Emily as the ladies made their way to the car and back to Quantico.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek was already waiting for them in Penelope’s lair and Emily passed the tape into the tech analyst’s outstretched hands. Piper stepped out for a cup of tea, and also the hyperawareness of how small the room was anyway. Penelope set it up, shooing Emily out of the way so she could launch it on the big screen. The trio watched a young mother cradle both her children in front of a homemade breakfast of pancakes, bacon, orange juice and black coffee. But the image changed, the camera following a hooded figure and hushed voices talking to each other. Penelope turned, taking her glasses off and putting her fingers in her ears.</p><p><em>“Welcome to the Sanderson home,”</em> said the voice behind the camera.</p><p><em>“Don't forget the view. They look down on everybody.”</em> The figure turned; his face still hooded. <em>“Let’s do this.”</em></p><p><em>“Shh. You'll wake them.”</em> It was a woman’s voice and seeing the figure turn, Derek asked Penelope if she could isolate the images. She promptly obliged, scanning through the footage to pause at the exact moment the man turned and zooming in.</p><p>“That could be a thousand guys,” Derek scoffed.</p><hr/><p>Piper sat patiently, letting Spencer bandage her fingers. “Spencer, I’m fine. I’ve had paper cuts worse than this.”</p><p>“Paper cuts don’t give you tetanus,” he said seriously, focusing on her hand.</p><p>“It’s a scratch. And rust doesn’t—”</p><p>“You’re right. Rust doesn’t cause tetanus. You know what does?” Spencer finally looked up, concern threaded through his forehead. “Tiny spores of bacteria. When the spores enter a deep flesh wound, they grow into bacteria that can produce a powerful toxin, tetanospasmin. The toxin impairs your motor neurons and can cause muscle stiffness and spasms—”</p><p>“The major signs and symptoms of tetanus, I know,” Piper tried placatingly. “I read the pamphlet the FDA gave everyone on immunology. I also remember the very next day, you panicked when you heard not everyone had their booster shot in the last 10 years.” She struggled to hold back a laugh at the sheepish look Spencer gave her.</p><p>“Immunology rules are very specific—”</p><p>“You made Penelope cry, Spence,” she reminded him. “And this—” she lifted her un-bandaged hand to show him the graze, “—is not a deep flesh wound. A deep flesh wound is when you step on a rusty push-pin. I love you but put the bandages away.”</p><p>“But if you—”</p><p>“If I do get infected with tetanus, you can say I told you so and I will listen to everything you say for the rest of my life.” Spencer sighed, packing up the first aid kit as Derek brought Sanderson into the room.</p><p>“Play the tape for him,” he ordered gently, and Piper obliged, setting the tape on for him and leaving the room with Spencer as Donald Sanderson watched the last few happy moments of his family.</p><hr/><p>The rest of the team gathered in the office kitchen. Piper was still reeling from the video while Emily dove through the scene. “It was debilitating, frenzied.”</p><p>“And documented, but not for a trophy,” Spencer mused from his seat on the table. “It seems to be from Wittman's point of view. I mean, she's obviously an accessory. Why not just destroy the evidence?”</p><p>“Blackmail,” Piper recalled. “She got something out of the arrangement. I mean, you saw her place. In the heart of DC, that kind of residence is expensive.”</p><p>“She never got married and she had a son who went to private school,” Emily added.</p><p>“You think it’s his kid?” Rossi asked, looking betwixt the two who shared a look.</p><p>“It’s possible,” Piper said.</p><p>“It would explain the bond and why he didn't get rid of her before today,” Emily offered.</p><p>“You said her place was nice,” Ashley said, glancing at Piper who stood leaning against the kitchen counter. “If he's covering his tracks, he's paying her in cash. Who can afford to do that?” Penelope just narrowed her eyes.</p><p>“We’re looking for a rich, powerful man in DC who also happens to be a pathological liar?” she asked, her laptop open in front of her. “Explain to me how you want me to narrow this down.”</p><p>“We know he’s got a link to Sanderson,” Piper offered lamely.</p><p>“Start with men who grew up in the district, came from nothing,” Emily offered.</p><p>“His ambition will define him,” Spencer added.</p><p>“He’s getting the thrill of killing from somewhere else. He thrives on taking power from people,” Piper said tiredly. This was still the largest demographic in the district.</p><p>“Well, he's manipulative but trustworthy. Two other people witnessed that murder and they never turned on him,” Emily explained.</p><p>“We have to think of this city as the unsub's comfort zone,” Rossi reasoned. “He didn't leave for a reason.” Ashley turned to Dave. “A target rich environment.”</p><p>“The damage he does and continues to do is right here in DC,” Spencer elaborated.</p><p>“Politics?”</p><p>“No, he isn’t patient enough and he certainly isn’t going to wait for a democracy to vote for him,” Piper countered.</p><p>“Not unless he manipulates them,” Emily expanded. “He needs to already be in a position of power to do that.”</p><p>“Okay, crossing politicians off my list,” Penelope updated, and Derek entered the makeshift discussion room in the kitchen. Ashley relayed what the team had come up with so far.</p><p>“Look into asset-based lenders, uh, big money-making ventures where people would be left in his wake,” Prentiss said.</p><p>“Corporate takeovers,” Rossi added.</p><p>“Businessman as psychopath?” Seaver asked confusedly as Bishop started to pace.</p><p>“They have the same characteristics,” Emily supplied. “They just use their skills differently.”</p><p>“They both have narcissistic traits,” Spencer added with gratification, “such as a grandiose sense of self-importance, deceptiveness, lack of remorse.”</p><p>“Hardcore businessmen, 36 and counting.” Derek sighed at Penelope’s update.</p><p>“That’s way too many. If we had this case 25 years ago, what would we have seen? How would we fight the physical evidence?” Piper stopped pacing abruptly.</p><p>“The entry point. Only someone with an intimate knowledge of the house would know that” Piper recalled.</p><p>“Garcia, who lived at the house before the Sandersons?” Derek asked.</p><p>“Property records...” Penelope murmured, tapping on her keyboard. “Well, it hasn't exchanged too many hands. The Barretts, the Kramers, the Stanworths.”</p><p>“Any of those names on your list of businessmen?”</p><p>“Uh, no. Let me look at that longer list. Hold, please.” They paused for a moment before Penelope spoke again. “Hey, family of James Stanworth. They lost the house in '82 and then they moved to the outskirts.”</p><p>“He sounded jealous on the tapes, that makes sense,” Emily reasoned.</p><p>“So, he knew the Sandersons and he knew the house. There was nothing random about that attack,” Derek summed up.</p><p>“A native Washingtonian, married with 3 kids,” Penelope added.</p><p>“Everything to lose,” Dave scoffed.</p><p>“He's running for Congress. Check out his campaign slogan,” Penelope said softly. “‘Let's do this’.”</p><p>“He said that on the tape,” Emily said, and all the pieces fell into place.</p><p>“This won't be easy,” Dave said, steeling himself for the lion’s den.</p><p>“Good luck,” Piper offered, watching the two men leave for the section chief’s office.</p><hr/><p>“You want to arrest James Stanworth?” Erin asked incredulously. “Are you out of your mind?”</p><p>“He’s got motive,” Derek placated. “Mary Rutka had a tape, she was blackmailing him.”</p><p>“It was a hooded figure. You can’t prove it was him.”</p><p>“Yes, we can. Dr Bishop chased him into an alley, and we have reason to believe that he could recognise her. And he fits the profile, Erin.”</p><p>“Forgive me, but your profile sounds like a self-made man, not the psychopath you claim he is,” Erin retorted.</p><p>“We said he'd be destructive,” Derek said again, his voice smooth. “In 1998 alone, he fired 6,000 people from one of his companies. Some of those employees took their own lives. This is the type of power and devastation that he enjoys.”</p><p>“Hearsay,” Erin countered, jabbing a finger at Derek. “Slander if you’re not careful.”</p><p>“Ma'am, he got into politics to be hard on crime,” Derek pleaded. “He would have access to keep tabs on Don Sanderson.”</p><p>“And now you're sounding as paranoid as Don Sanderson. You cannot accuse a man without a shred of <em>physical</em> <em>evidence</em>,” Erin said, enunciating each word.</p><p>“Mary Rutka had skin under her nails. Maybe she left a mark.”</p><p>“And you cannot arrest a man based on the possibility of a scratch.”</p><p>“We can't arrest <em>this</em> man. That's what you mean,” Rossi said, making Erin look at him over Derek’s shoulder. “Don't pull any punches now, Erin.”</p><p>“You don't understand what the politics are, do you, Dave?” Erin asked, stepping towards him. “You never have.”</p><p>“No, I do,” Dave countered. “I just don't care.”</p><p>“Ma'am, with all due respect,” Derek intervened. “We have an innocent man in our custody, and the killer is still out there. It just might be James Stanworth.”</p><p>“You don't have enough proof,” Erin said, turning around to face him. “The BAU functions without you. Don't push it.”</p><hr/><p>“So, there's nothing we can do?” Penelope asked the group. “This guy's gonna get away with it?</p><p>“No. No, not a chance in hell. Garcia, find me James Stanworth right now,” Derek said, glancing at Rossi. “Another hour passes, he's that much closer to hiding his true self.”</p><p>“Mary Rutka's his third victim,” Spencer mused. “He's now officially a serial killer.”</p><p>“We don’t stop this guy now, we could have a serial killer in Congress,” Piper cautioned. “Those are words that make sense for some reason,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair.</p><p>“What do you wanna do?” Ashley asked and the team turned to Derek.</p><p>“I wanna expose this son of a bitch. If he did kill Mary Rutka, he's gonna have cuts on him somewhere. We match that DNA, we got him.”</p><p>“Guys, he's having a fund-raiser at his house in McLean,” Penelope updated. “Started 10 minutes ago.”</p><p>“Text me the address,” Derek said, grabbing his coat.</p><p>“Hold on!” Piper called out. “We can’t just go in there, guns blazing.” Dave glanced between Piper and Emily. “We need a plan,” she said, looking around at her team.</p><p>“Yeah,” Rossi said. “Yeah, we do.”</p><hr/><p>“When I said we need a plan, I didn’t think this was it,” Piper whispered into the mic hidden by the satin grey dress she was wearing. She slowly shifted her gaze around the giant hall, seeing her team blend into the crowd. Dave was seated at the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he nodded to her subtly. As Piper politely made her way to the front of the crowd, she noticed Emily in a dark pantsuit on the other side of the hall, sipping on liquor next the winding staircase. Spencer and Seaver were in a dark, unmarked car outside the mansion, keeping an eye on security.</p><p>“Which is why I insisted they come to D.C., meet the policymakers, see that it's not as simple as signing our names, that the problems we're dealing with are not easy ones, that we have to plan not 2 steps ahead, but 200 steps. That it's not just about what's in our families' best interests, it's what's in our nation's. Thank you,” James finished, his easy smile faltering as Piper made herself visible in the front.</p><p>“Mr Stanworth, what’s your opinion on the recent parole board decision on Donald Sanderson’s release?” Piper asked, an easy smile on her face. James glanced uneasily over the large audience that murmured under his silence.</p><p>“And you are?”</p><p>“With the Washington Chronicle. Your opinion?”</p><p>“I think it’s a perfect example of why my policies are so necessary in the district. After all, a man was murdered merely two days after his release.” Piper nodded, keeping her face casual.</p><p>“You agree there’s a lot of speculation around the issue, especially if the FBI are involved.” James laughed nervously.</p><p>“I’ll agree that debate isn’t going to bring justice to our nation’s residents. We need to act now so that people like Donald Sanderson will no longer be a danger to society.”</p><p>“What do you say to rumours that the FBI have reopened the investigation into the Sanderson murders? A murder that happened in a house that formerly belonged to your father?” Shockwaves reverberated around the room and James struggled to get control over the room.</p><p>“I’m afraid we’ve all gathered here for a fundraiser, not a press conference.”</p><p>“Perhaps a moment after dinner?” Piper asked, a rueful smile playing on her lips. James gave her a tight-lipped smile as the crowd dispersed. Piper stepped away with them, making sure to stay within Mr Stanworth’s sight line. Not even 20 minutes passed when James asked her to step away from the fundraiser to ‘answer a few burning questions’. He was charming, no doubt, but no amount of charm could melt away the smell of perfumed sweat or the tremble in his arm as he pulled her outside.</p><p>“You’re not from the Washington Chronicle,” he said.</p><p>“I—I’m sorry?” Piper glanced around, not letting her curiously confused gaze slip where Derek and multiple officers were standing silently in the shadows.</p><p>“I saw you,” he seethed, a hand slipping into his trouser pocket.</p><p>“Oh, no, I’ve just got one of those faces,” Piper said.</p><p>“Really?” James sneered. Piper stood her ground, keeping her gaze steady.</p><p>“The real question is, how did you know about the murder after Don Sanderson was released?” James licked his lips, smiling carefully.</p><p>“I have connections in the police department.” Piper smiled.</p><p>“What about the recent testimony about Sanderson’s heroin stash?”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” he admitted.</p><p>“Oh, did your connections forget to mention that? What about the tape they found?”</p><p>“I’m not aware of any tape or heroin stash,” he said plainly.</p><p>“Oh,” Piper said, feigning confusion. “I suppose Rutka’s testimony’s meaningless.”</p><p>“Th—That’s impossible,” he said, and Piper glanced up.</p><p>“My sources are impeccable, Mr Stanworth,” she asserted. “Of course, I could just pretend to forget what Mary Rutka told me with her dying breaths. But that tape <em>is</em> going to be a bit of a problem.”</p><p>“I told you, it’s impossible,” he repeated.</p><p>“Did your connections tell you that?” Piper asked, stepping closer to James, so close her lips briefly touched his ear. “Because I sincerely doubt your connections are better than mine.” Piper’s hand hovered near his waist, her glance.</p><p>“It’s impossible,” he whispered, unaware of the mic hidden under the fabric over her shoulder. “Because I killed her.” His hand withdrew a switchblade from his pocket and Piper grabbed his wrist, bringing them up over his head. Derek moved in, reaching for both of James’s hands.</p><p>“James Stanworth, you’re under arrest for the murder of Mary Rutka and attempted assault on a federal agent. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney...”</p><p>The rest of the Miranda rights faded into background as Derek turned to Piper.</p><p>“There is something about a guy confessing he committed murder in your ear that is not sexy,” Piper smirked, and Derek chuckled, pulling her into a side hug as the duo walked to their SUV. “Looks like your gut was right after all.” Derek leaned back.</p><p>“You saying you doubted me?” Piper shrugged with an easy smile, her tongue peeking out between her teeth. “Oh, that is <em>not</em> cool.” Piper snickered, bumping shoulders.</p><p>“C’mon! I trust you enough not to let a serial killer out of jail.”</p><p>“Okay, I see how it is,” Derek protested. “When were you last asked to a parole hearing?” Piper let her jaw drop in mock outrage as they walked up to Ashley and Spencer.</p><p>“That is low,” she said, shoving him before meeting Spencer’s tender gaze.</p><p>“So, we got the whole confession on tape,” Ashley updated them. “Garcia’s getting it to the detectives as we speak.”</p><p>“Good,” Derek affirmed. “Don will be glad to hear that.” Piper smiled but Derek still looked pensive. Spencer caught Piper licking her lips and ushered Seaver over to debrief Dave and Emily. Meanwhile, Piper leant against the SUV.</p><p>“What’s on your mind?” Derek glanced out into the darkness.</p><p>“We can pin Rutka on Stanworth but how are they going to prove he killed Mrs Sanderson and that little girl?” Piper crossed her arms as Derek met her gaze.</p><p>“Same way we pieced it together. Let the lawyers focus on that.” Derek nodded half-heartedly, his gaze still shifting. “You could still do something for Don, you know.” Derek glanced over at her. “Something kept him going for 25 years. And it was more than landing Stanworth in jail,” she hinted, and Derek chuckled in the darkness.</p><p>“Night, Bishop,” he said, finally a genuine smile overcoming the tumultuous exhaustion of the day. Piper moved to the front of her car, watching as he got into his car with Emily and Ashley, his taillights fading into darkness along with the sirens. Her gaze shattered as she felt a warmth come in from behind. She rubbed her neck, glancing at Spencer. She looked beautiful; her frame enveloped in a satin grey dress flowing down to her knees. Her eyes glittered under the starlight and all he felt was worry overwhelming him. This job was hard enough without knowing at any moment, he could lose everything he’d ever wanted. One wrong move and Piper could have been in a hospital room again, a knife stuck into her torso. Maybe she’d laugh it off in the ambulance, sighing that it was just another scar to add to the growing collection. Maybe she’d disappear behind the white doors of the surgical suite only to disappear from his life forever. And in spite of this effortless spiel of worry in his mind, she proposed a single question that reinforced how much he loved her.</p><p>“You think Hotch and Jack are doing okay?” He mirrored her movements, getting into the driver’s seat beside her.</p><p>“Jack was only 4 when it happened and he never really saw any of it,” Spencer pointed out as he pulled out of the driveway, leaving the mansion behind them but Piper still looked uncomfortable.</p><p>“He still lost his mom, Spence.” Silence filled the car as Piper gazed out of the car window. He wished he could come up with something reassuring, something to fill the void of conversation. He knew Piper had been seconds too late and he knew how guilty she’d felt about it. What he didn’t know was how Piper had found Jack inside Hotch’s desk, how she had told him that Daddy was coming and consoled him before closing the top. He didn’t know how Piper had tried to ignore the yells in the name of protocol. She had just stood behind a door, frozen with her gun raised, dreading for Foyet to spring the door, dreading to have to kill him, not knowing Aaron was downstairs doing the very same thing. All he could offer was his warmth as his hand glided over to capture hers.</p><p>“You did your best that day, Hotch knows that,” he said softly, and Piper smiled weakly at him, squeezing softly.</p><p>“I know,” she sighed. “I just wish there was something I could do.”</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Epilogue</h2></a>
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    <p>The sunlight glimmered through the trees, ricocheting off Donald Sanderson’s glasses as he waited nervously next to a patient Derek. “There hasn't been a second when I haven't thought about this,” Don murmured, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Now it's here.”</p><p>“How does it feel?” Derek asked.</p><p>“I'm terrified,” Don confessed.</p><p>“You know, your son has been studying medicine,” Derek said, recalling everything Penelope had told him before rushing off to bake multiple goods for the Hotchners. “He wants to open his own clinic. It seems to me he's becoming a lot like his father.”</p><p>“I don't even know what he looks like.”</p><p>“Well, it looks like you're about to find out,” Derek said, his gaze falling on the dark minivan that rolled outside the park side gateway.</p><p>“Yes, but I...” Don trailed off, turning his head into Derek. “What am I supposed to say to him?”</p><p>“He knows that you didn't do it,” Derek said, reminded of the phone call that morning. “That's all you ever wanted him to know.” Derek and Don rose simultaneously, the father’s gaze pinned on the young man walking over to him that looked so much like his late wife. His hair was just like his, but his eyes, that familiar dark charcoal eyes were nothing like his. They didn’t hide behind spectacles, they shone in the same sharp brilliance as his wife’s did. “Go, show him who his dad really is.” Derek watched warmly as the father walked towards his son, his Joshua. Gulping, Donald attempted at formality, extending a hand as he said his son’s name, the word rolling off his tongue, tasting of fondness and warm honey. But Joshua ignored the hand, taking the leap to hug his father, Don’s bandaged hand going around Joshua’s shoulder as they embraced each other, the last of the Sandersons. Donald laughed, the first smile gracing his face in 25 years while Derek watched behind them, the image of propriety, unlike Emily who walked over through the grass in her classy heels. Derek glanced over at her.</p><p>“Woah, there a party I don’t know about?” Derek asked as his eyes surveyed Emily’s starry dress, dark, translucent fabric gracing her upper arm.</p><p>“Very funny. Piper’s gonna kill me if you don’t show up with the others and even if we both outrun her, you can’t outrun Penelope, so, hurry up.” Don looked up from his embrace and Derek nodded firmly, raising an arm to say goodbye. Don still had an arm around his son’s back, not wanting to let go of him ever again.</p><hr/><p>Aaron opened the porch door to see his colleagues standing with grinning smiles and baked goods, Penelope at the forefront of the small army. Rossi pretended to have been roped into the program, but Jack’s smile quickly put an end to that. With an uncharacteristic smile, Aaron let them into the usually quiet house and Jack squealed at Derek lifting him up, pretending to be weighed down, but easily lifting the young boy to Spencer’s height. All of them had a silent agreement to talk about anything other than work, easily lifting the sombre mood that had settled over the house with pastries, wine and eventually dinner. As Piper, Penelope, Spencer and Jack squabbled over Star Wars, Dave and Rossi shared their fondest memories of Erin Strauss with Derek and Emily, eventually, both conversations transforming into hugs goodbye, although it was up for debate if Penelope would end up leaving with Jack in tow, for which he was more than willing. But in the end, the group left with Piper and Spencer taking the drunk profilers in two cars, dropping each one at their residence, hopeful that they had succeeded in their true aim; helping the Hotchners out of a sombre mood into one of family and joy.</p>
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